Oh, What A Tangled Web They've Weaved
by Hearts Unfold
Summary: Everyone knows the story of Harry Potter. He's the Chosen One. Voldemort's the evil one. Right?... Right?
1. Everyone

**So this story is...I'd like to say different. But with my luck, someone had the exact same idea I did and already published a story like this. And with my luck it's a million times better. Let's just say that I abused JK Rowling's beautiful world of Harry Potter and made the evil innocent and the innocent evil. Heehee. Anyway, I thank everyone in advance fo reading this and will definitely give shout outs to those who reply in the second chapter, which is almost finished. YAY! Ok, enjoy!**

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Chapter One**

**-Lark and Cedric-**

She stood there in disbelief at the sight in front of her. They couldn't see her but she could see the both of them clearly. She had heard voices coming from the far cubicle, and she clearly remembered Madam Pomfrey dictating that Potter was not to be disturbed. So, upon hearing the voices, she had crept over to his cubicle to silence whoever it was. She certainly hadn't expected what was now in front of her. It had been a year ago, a year ago this very night when he'd died, but there he was, in plain view. Granted, he was a ghost now, there was no denying that factor, but it was still completely unexpected. She was used to ghosts, there were plenty around Hogwarts, but it was the fact that _he_ was a ghost that unnerved her.

Lark Turnings slipped out of view of the pair sucked in a deep breath. Should she say something? Should she alert Madam Pomfrey? What if she was just imagining things? She hadn't been able to stop thinking about him all day, and perhaps her heart was so desperate to see him one more time it had invented this illusion. The voices persisted and Lark was convinced that she was not imagining things. Cedric Diggory really was a ghost who had come back to Hogwarts and was currently talking to Harry Potter. Lark glanced at the other beds. Ron Weasley and his friend Hermione Granger were fast asleep. Neville Longbottom was out with a sleeping draught and Ginny Weasley had been released the day before. The other girl hadn't sustained any injuries and was released the first night.

With another deep breath, Lark decided to break into the conversation. Shaking slightly she went towards Harry's bed, pushing aside the curtains. Harry jumped and Cedric froze.

"Madam Pomfrey ordered rest for him," she said softly, her gaze connecting with Cedric's. Harry looked back and forth between the two, not sure if he should say something. Cedric was speechless as Lark continued with her questioning stare.

"Didn't you graduate?" he finally asked. She nodded.

"I'm an intern to Madam Pomfrey," was the reply. More silence followed as neither knew what to say to the other. They hadn't exactly gotten to say goodbye before being separated by fate.

"So you're a healer then?" was Cedric's next question, followed by another nod from Lark. He smiled softly. "You always wanted to be a healer."

Lark felt tears forming behind her eyes. She wanted nothing more than to run to his arms and be held by him once again, but that wish was impossible. If she tried she'd go right through him.

"And you, you're alright then?" she asked in a shaky voice.

"Being a ghost isn't so bad," he answered in the same soft tone. "Although I didn't become one until tonight, right on the hour of my death. Before I was just a floating spirit, watching things and waiting." He also wanted very much to take her into his arms again, and feel her warm body against his. Harry remained silent.

"So you know why I'm here," Lark said breathlessly. "Why are you here?"

"Well," Cedric started. "When I turned into a ghost, I felt something calling me back to Hogwarts, specifically the hospital wing. I saw Potter and figured I was supposed to tell him the things I'd found out about You-Know-Who, but now that I see you here…"

The room fell into silence once again, broken only by the snores of the other tenants. Harry continued to watch the couple as they stared wordlessly at each other. He knew Cedric and Lark were both shy people, but they had been dating, surely they could think of something to talk about?

"Harry needs to sleep," Lark finally spoke. Cedric nodded and glided through the curtain. Lark left his bed area, closing the curtain behind her. She was met once again with the sight of the ghostly Cedric, floating a few inches above the ground.

"I would never have chosen for you to see me like this," he confessed, following Lark into her office.

"So you would have avoided me if you'd known I was here?" she bristled.

"No, I just…"

"Just what, Cedric?" Lark turned around to face him. "How is it that we can both have fallen in love, but now, a year after you die, we can't even seem to have a conversation?" She felt the tears fighting for release again. Cedric reached out a hand to comfort her, but it went straight through her skin, causing Lark to shiver. His arm fell back to its side, hanging limply as a sad look crossed his face.

"I'm dead Lark," he answered solemnly. "Nothing will make me alive again."

Tears leaked from Lark's eyes and ran down her cheeks, splashing onto her robes. She reached down the front of her robes, pulling out a thick black cord with a golden snitch hanging from it. Cedric's eyes flew from the trinket to Lark's face. He remembered coming out Voldemort's wand and telling Harry to give the necklace to Lark. Harry had been true to his word. After stowing the necklace back inside the front of her robes, she reached into one of her desk drawers and pulled out envelopes containing cards.

"Your parents send me a card every holiday," Lark held up one of the envelopes for him to see. He immediately recognized his father's handwriting. "Christmas, Easter, my birthday, when I graduated from Hogwarts, and when they heard I got the internship here at Hogwarts." Cedric merely stared, not saying a word. The two stood together in silence once more.

**-Harry Potter-**

Harry Potter lay in bed, thinking about what had just occurred. He'd been having the graveyard dream again, he knew that, and when he had jerked awake, there stood Cedric Diggory. Floated was perhaps a better term than stood, for Cedric was most definitely a ghost. After briefly telling Harry about his journey to becoming a ghost, he relayed information he had overheard about Voldemort. It wasn't much help, for Harry already knew about the prophecy, which had been smashed in the Department of Mysteries. Cedric had looked crestfallen at the news; for this was all he had heard the Death Eaters and Voldemort himself talk of. Cedric had more news, but wasn't given a chance to share it due to the appearance of Lark Turnings, healer in training and old girlfriend of Cedric.

If Cedric wasn't too distracted by Lark, perhaps he'd come back and finish telling Harry everything he knew, although Harry doubted any of it would help. He knew the prophecy; he knew what he had to do. Why he was stuck in the Hospital Wing was beyond his understanding however; Madam Pomfrey had simply insisted he needed uninterrupted sleep and that the only way he would get it was here. Lark watched over him mostly, they had formed a friendship, for which the death of Cedric had been the basis. They never spoke of Cedric but had reached a silent understanding that each was grieving in separate ways. He wondered how she was feeling now, after seeing Cedric as a ghost.

Harry gave a loud sigh, rolling over onto his stomach and closing his eyes. His scar prickled uncomfortably; as it did most days. Lark was much older than him, but he trusted her and knew she didn't think him delusional or a stupid kid. She treated him like an adult, for which he returned the respect. Ron and Hermione didn't know about his talks with Lark, for they had formed another silent agreement that the conversations were private between them. He drifted off to the snores of his fellow companions.

**-Draco Malfoy-**

He sat hunched over with his back against the cold stone wall. His father was in Azkaban. Relief and fear flooded through him. Relief that he was finally safe from the cold clutches of his father's tyranny; fearful because he knew his father wouldn't be in Azkaban for long. The Dark Lord would get them out in no time. He also felt a sense of dread, knowing that he would be asked to take his father's place. This thought caused anger and hatred to course through his blood as Draco slammed a fist against the wall, bringing with it stinging pain.

"I never asked to be involved," he quietly said, his voice shaking. "I didn't choose this life, why should I have to follow it?" The room responded with cold silence.

"Are you wishing to take a path away from your Master, Draco?" Snape's icy voice cut through the silence. Draco jumped to his feet, staring down the Potion's Master.

"And where were you during the Ministry chaos?" he demanded in a shaky voice. "Hiding from the Dark Lord?"

"It was not one of my orders to attend the masquerade," Snape answered. "If you continue to think ill of the Dark Lord, I assure you, he will find out. He's already contacted me that he wishes to meet with you. So do what you're told Draco, and he won't hurt you or anyone you care about." Draco raised his chin in defiance and stared straight into the heartless eyes of the teacher he had once admired.

"You forget, Professor," he said with a stony quietness. "I'm a Malfoy. Malfoys don't know how to care." With a flicker of anger in his eyes, the Potion's Master turned on his heel and exited the bathroom. After a moment, Draco followed suit, leaving the bathroom and his childhood in his wake.


	2. Harry Potter

I forgot to mention last time that this fic ties in with "Don't Close Your Eyes" although I dont think you need to read that one to understand what's going on. It would just tell you who Lark is. Anyways, thanks to everyone who read the last chapter, sorry it took me so long to update, I was hoping for more reviews, but beggars can't be picky. So this chapter is dedicated to Steph. Because I love her. :) Enjoy!

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**Chapter Two**

**-Harry Potter-**

Harry stared out at the window at the beautiful day. People were whispering about him again, but he had learned not to care. At least they had stopped asking him if her were "The Chosen One" as the Prophet had reported. He had spent the summer first in isolation, and then in the pleasurable company of the Weasley clan plus Hermione. Now they were back at school and everyone was acting no different than normal. Except that now they all believed him. He found he just didn't care anymore, and didn't know if this was because he had matured or fallen into a depression. He knew what the prophecy meant and didn't see how he was supposed to fulfill it. Ron and Hermione seemed confident that he could, although he suspected they just said that to make him feel better.

"Harry, don't you want some lunch?" Hermione asked gently. He snapped out of his daydream.

"Yeah, food sounds good," he replied, plastering a smile on his face and walking out of the common room with her and Ron. In the hall, they passed Draco Malfoy, whom Harry had become increasingly suspicious of since the end of the summer. Malfoy gave them a furtive glance and kept walking.

"See!" Harry whispered fervently to his best friends. "He isn't insulting us! He's definitely up to something!"

"Of course he is," Hermione waved her hand in a dismissive way. Ron chose not to look at Harry. Harry glared at the floor, annoyed that his best friends wouldn't listen to him. Lark and Cedric had believed him, and Cedric had even offered to help.

"If I see him going anywhere suspicious, I'll try and follow him," Cedric had promised. It was depressing to realize that the intern Healer and a ghost that he'd seen die were the only ones who supported his "Draco is Evil and Going to Destroy Us All" theory.

"Did you hear that Pomfrey's going on vacation for a month? Apparently she really trusts Turnings to take care of us students," Ron was saying.

"Well, Lark was always really smart," Hermione nodded her head as though agreeing with herself. "That's what George said anyway."

"She's really nice too," Harry added, although he didn't think either of his friends heard him.

"Yeah, George was pretty fond of her, wasn't he?" Ron scratched his nose as he spoke.

"He was her _friend_ Ronald," Hermione replied in a stern tone. "I don't know why you always have to turn platonic relationships into something more."

"I do not!" Ron argued, pouting slightly. "I was just saying he was fond of her as a friend!" Hermione shook her bushy head.

"You were not," she answered haughtily.

"And since when have you been able to read minds?" Ron demanded. Harry's head was starting to hurt.

"_Yours _isn't that hard to figure out," Hermione fired back.

"I'll see you two later," Harry mumbled, turning around and heading back in the direction they came. Neither Ron nor Hermione noticed he had left as they were still having a heated argument. He took a right into a hidden staircase and headed towards the Hospital Wing to find some peace and a headache cure.

"You come here far too often for a student who's not hurt," Lark commented the moment she saw him. "Are you here for a potion or did you just need to get away?" Harry fully appreciated Lark's abilities to read minds.

"Both," he replied, sitting down on one of the beds and rubbing his temple with the palm of his hand. Lark poured something into a tablespoon and handed it to the black haired boy who took it gratefully. His headache disappeared instantly.

"Ron and Hermione were at it again," he explained after handing the spoon back. Lark nodded knowingly.

"That's how Mack and Jules were," she sighed. "I miss those days. Now we're all professionals out in the real world and hardly have time to talk." She stared off into space for a moment, finally looking down at her patient.

"Don't you find it the least bit troublesome that you find solace in the Hospital Wing?" she questioned, replacing the sheets on one of the beds.

"At times," was the honest reply. "But my friends don't understand and the rest of the castle still thinks I'm crazy."

"To their credit, you do have to be a bit crazy to face You Know Who," Lark pointed out. "And brave, but mostly crazy." Harry pulled a bemused face.

"You're a great help," he said, holding back a laugh. Lark smiled, tucking in the corners of the sheets on the bed.

"Do Ron and Hermione know this is where you sneak off to?" she questioned, sitting down next to him. He shook his head.

"Once again, they wouldn't understand. I know Dumbledore told me to share the burden with them, but honestly…telling them everything didn't make it any easier. They just think I'm overreacting to everything now."

"In short, they still think that you're losing it by thinking that Draco Malfoy is up to something sinister?" Lark questioned. Again, the dark haired boy nodded. Madam Pomfrey walked in at this moment.

"Potter, what are you here for?" she questioned sternly.

"Really bad headache," he answered quickly. "But Miss Turnings fixed it. Thanks!" He exited the Hospital Wing in a speedy fashion, afraid of more questioning from Madam Pomfrey. He located Ron and Hermione out of the grounds, enjoying a free period after lunch.

"Where did you sneak off to?" Hermione demanded the moment she spotted him.

"I had a really bad headache and went to see Madam Pomfrey for it," he replied. It was partially true.

"I thought your scar had stopped hurting," Ron intervened.

"It wasn't my scar," Harry answered irritably. Really, did they register anything he told them?

"There's no need to take that tone with us!" Hermione sniffed. Harry rolled his eyes and left the duo once again.

"Where are you going now?" Ron yelled after him.

"Honestly!" he heard Hermione huff.

Once inside the Entrance Hall, Harry was presented with a dilemma. He couldn't go back to the Hospital Wing, lunch was over, and the common room was bound to have people. At the moment, he just wanted to be alone. Dumbledore had warned him against this, saying that Harry needed to confide his soul to his two best friends. Well, his two best friends were being prats and never listened to him anyway. And who really wanted their best friends knowing every little thing about them? He certainly didn't. With a decision that was bound to turn out bad for him, he headed to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. It would most definitely be devoid of people, but Myrtle was probably there. If he insulted her early on, she'd quickly leave. As that thought lifted his spirits slightly, he pushed open her door, only to find that someone was already in there.

"Malfoy?" he raised his eyebrows in disbelief. Malfoy spun around, his face white and his eyes bloodshot.

"What do you want Potter?" he asked, his voice shaking slightly.

"Well I came in here to be alone, but seeing as it's already occupied, I guess I'll leave."

"No, I was just…I'm finished," Malfoy responded, pushing past Harry to leave. For the first time in his life, Harry felt pity for the youngest Malfoy. Something had severely shaken him, and he looked weak and scared. Harry caught the sleeve of his robes.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked, concern etched in his features.

"Since when do you care?" There was no malice in Malfoy's words, only curiosity at the sudden interest. Harry let go of his sleeve.

"I just think we've both been through a lot and are feeling misunderstood and utterly alone," was the reply. Draco studied Harry for a moment before walking away.

Harry shut the door and bolted it, sitting on the floor and leaning back against the cold, stone wall. He contemplated how much life had changed, all because of that stupid prophecy. No, Harry thought to himself, all because of Voldemort.


	3. Draco Malfoy

Thanks to anyone who read the last chapter.

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**Chapter Three**

**-Draco Malfoy-**

Draco stood over the vanishing cabinet, staring it down. How the bloody hell was he supposed to fix it? He pounded his fist against it, and then cursed as pain shot through his hand. He had to complete this task, or the Dark Lord would have his head. He supposed that death didn't really scare him; he just wasn't ready to leave the world. He wasn't satisfied with his life yet. _Will killing him satisfy you?_ His conscience questioned. Draco breathed another deep sigh. That seemed to be the only constant in his life these days, sighing. With one last reproachful glance at the cabinet, Draco left the Room of Requirement.

"Draco!" Pansy Parkinson squealed, grabbing his arm the moment she saw him. "Where have you been lately? I miss you!" He rolled his eyes and yanked his arm out of her grip.

"Nowhere that matters to you," he answered curtly, stalking away from her. She had been an annoying thorn in his side for far too long.

"Draco!" she shrilled as he turned the corner. _Great, _he thought. _Now I have a headache also. Madam Pomfrey probably has some potion for that. _Turning around, he headed for the Hospital Wing instead of the Hogwart's Grounds. He entered to find Potter immersed in conversation with the intern healer, Lark. He gave a little cough to announce himself and both jumped slightly at the intrusion.

"Draco Malfoy, right?" Lark questioned, a look forming in her eyes. Draco knew that look well. It was the same one all those who weren't Death Eaters gave him; suspicious, distrusting, and often times loathing. He responded with a silent nod. Harry sent him a smile, causing Draco to cock his eyebrow in confusion.

"What can I help you with?" Lark continued, not noticing the gestures that had passed between the two boys.

"Headache," Draco murmured, turning his focus back to her. She nodded and disappeared into a back room.

"What are you here for?" Draco asked Potter in what he considered a conversational tone.

"Headache," Potter replied in an innocent tone as Draco narrowed his eyes at him.

"And…to talk," Harry admitted. "Lark's about the only one who will listen to me these days." Draco nodded in understanding.

"At least you've found someone who will," he muttered, not meaning to be heard.

"What, Parkinson doesn't lap up your every word anymore?" Harry cocked his head to the side in fake disbelief. Draco sent him the trademarked Malfoy glare. Lark came back into the room holding a teaspoon and an orange bottle.

"Found it!" she sang out cheerfully. "I can't believe it was so hidden." Draco had a suspicion that she had heard their conversation.

"Thank you," he said after gulping down the potion. He immediately felt the pain subside. He nodded a goodbye to Potter and turned to leave.

"Hey Malfoy," Potter's voice rang out. The blonde stopped and waited. "I'm sure Lark will listen to whatever you have to say, if you ever really need to talk to someone. I would offer my ears, but I know you aren't that trusting." Draco held back a snort of laughter.

"I'll think on that," he replied. An hour later, Draco sat out by the lake, a cool breeze blowing back his overgrown hair.

"You should get a haircut," he heard Pansy purr in his ear. "You look so much better with short hair." Draco stood, brushing her aside.

"In that case I'll keep it this way," he answered, not even looking at her.

"Why have you been so mean to me lately?" she demanded, her voice choked with tears. Against his better judgment, he turned to face her.

"You really can't take a hint, can you Pansy?" Draco's voice was silent and his face was expressionless. "I don't want to be with you. I never have."

With that said and a last look at the horror on her face, he went back inside the castle. _I've got to stop feeling sorry for myself, _he told himself gravely. _It won't help you complete your task._ Trying to decide what to do next, he poised at the door to the Great Hall. Dinner had started and he considered joining them, he hadn't eaten in two days. When his stomach gave a giant lurch of hunger, he went ahead and sat down at the Slytherin table. Five minutes later Pansy showed; her face red and tear streaked. She sat down with her friends, throwing Draco a hurtful look. He ignored it completely, which caused her to burst into tears again. After dinner, Draco disposed of his independence and sought out Lark's company.

"I hope I'm not imposing," he said when he found her.

"Not at all," she smiled kindly in return. "Harry spoke the truth when he said I listen well."

"I don't even know what it is I want to talk about," he admitted, raising his gray eyes to meet her brown ones.

"Well, obviously there's something weighing you down." She was still smiling. They sat there for a few minutes, saying nothing. Their silence was broken by the entrance of Potter.

"Oh, sorry!" he apologized. "I didn't think anyone else would be here."

"He doesn't say much," Lark commented.

"No reason you shouldn't stay," Draco stood. "I can't figure out what I need to get off my chest." Potter nodded.

Draco sighed, once again finding himself beside that damned vanishing cabinet. Once again, he didn't know how to fix it, and once again, the prospect of failing at his mission loomed over his head like a dark cloud. These days he couldn't stop himself from wondering what death was like. And with that subject came the thought of killing himself so that the Dark Lord wouldn't have the satisfaction. But that always seemed like a stupid idea because what if he found a way to fix the cabinet. These thoughts were a chain that circled in his brain day in and day out. Whenever he had a moment to spare, the thoughts invited themselves into his mind and toyed with him in a cruel manner.

"Mister Malfoy!" Snape yelled across the classroom. Draco jumped. It had only been a dream. Great, now he was dreaming about the damned cabinet.

"Yes?" he answered weakly.

"Were you listening to a word I said?"

"No, sir," Draco answered, ducking his head in shame.

"A week's worth of detention then," Snape sneered. Draco silently cursed him. Snape was only doing that to keep him away from his mission. Not that it was going anywhere at this point, but that didn't matter. He caught Potter sending him a sympathetic look and turned, fuming inside.

"Are you trying to be my friend?!" Draco demanded after cornering Potter in the hallway. Potter crossed his arms over his chest.

"I have no idea where you got an insane idea like that, Malfoy," he responded. "I was being nice to you, yes, but believe me when I say I had no intentions of befriending. I still don't."

"Then stop being nice," Malfoy seethed.

"Why should I?" Potter smirked. "Now that I know it drives you crazy." Malfoy thought about cursing him, but decided against it. He didn't need more detentions if he got caught.

"Talk to Lark!" Potter shouted after him as Draco raced away. If Potter suggested it, then there was no way he would do it. Although he had found comfort in the young woman, he refused to use the same confidante as Harry.


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